Shot in the Dark
by VoiceofDarkness
Summary: When a psychotic, eccentric serial murderess takes the CSI mentally hostage, Horatio and Calleigh are forced to confront their feelings for each other. (First chapter is songfic.)
1. Prologue

A/N: Lyrics in this chapter taken from "Kiss From A Rose" by Seal. Far cry from what I usually listen to. I am not responsible for the accuracy of these lyrics; blame if I screwed up. Also, I do not intend for the verses to be in correct order.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Trust me, if it were possible, I would have bought David Caruso years ago.

* * *

_There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea_.

For the first few seconds he saw her each day, his heart stopped beating, just long enough for him to drink in the sight of her.

_You became the light on the dark side of me._

He never grew tired of seeing her, the way he had tired of Yelena. When he looked at Yelena, all he saw were images of what his brother had been, what he had had.

_Love remains...a drug that's the high and not the pill..._

Yelena tortured him. She manipulated him. She acted like she owned him. She was the mistress, he the servent. That was how it was with Yelena.

_But did you know that when it snows..._

But not with _her_.

_My eyes become large and the light that you shine can't be seen._

When he saw her, no matter what, the day found new meaning.

_Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose of the grey._

All she had to do was smile, and he fell for her all over again. Fell for that irresistible, unintentional seduction.

_Ooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels._

And when he watched her walk away, her shimmering, golden cascade of hair swaying with her steps, a part of him went with her.

_And now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grey._

She couldn't breathe when he was around.

_There is so much a man can tell you._

When he smiled, she stopped breathing.

_So much he can say._

When he looked at her with those impossible blue eyes, she stopped breathing.

_You remain...my power._

When she watched him stare off into the sunset, his flaming hair tossed about in the breeze, she stopped breathing.

_My pleasure._

When he was close enough, when his voice dropped into that octave that made anything sound sensual, her lungs stopped working until he was done speaking.

_My pain._

And he didn't even notice what he did to her. At least it didn't seem like it.

_To me, you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny._

For some reason, she found herself seeming jealous whenever he talked to Yelena. She knew she was being stupid.

_Won't you tell me that it's healthy, babe?_

After all, she was his brother's widow.

_But did you know..._

But was that all? Was that really all she was to him?

_That when it snows..._

She realized that she was again thinking about herself. Not Yelena. Yelena didn't need any help getting a man.

_My eyes become large..._

Calleigh needed help, but not getting a man. More like getting over one.

_And the light that you shine can't be seen?_

He had dreamt about her for several nights now.

_There is so much a man can tell you._

Each time, he woke up panting, trying to drive the sight of her from his mind.

_So much he can say._

But she didn't leave.

_You remain...my power._

The images he had of her, real and fictitious, melded together until he started to get angry at himself for not keeping his work and his desires separate.

_My pleasure._

In the morning he would get up, get dressed, and try to figure out how to face those vibrant green eyes again.

_My pain._

She woke up in the middle of the night sweating, mad at herself.

_Baby, I compare you to a kiss form a rose on the grey._

She had to get him off her mind, or she would never stop having dreams like this.

_Ooh, the more I get of you the stranger it feels._

Dreams where they weren't separate...

_And now that your rose is in bloom_

Dreams where they were finally one...

_A light hits the gloom on the grey._

She had to push him out of her head.

_But did you know...that when is snows..._

She would take a shower to wash away the sweat, and would hide it all with a smile like a true Southerner.

_My eyes become large..._

He needed her. He wanted her. He was compelled to be near her.

_And the light that you shine can't be seen?_

She loved him. She longed for him. She had to force herself to be away from him.

_Now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grey._

But duty calls.

* * *

Okay, a bit fluffy. The rest is more plot-involved. But with plenty of Calleigh/Horatio interaction and such! 


	2. Chapter One

A/N: Sorry this took a few days. Also, this story is set in MY time, which means prior to Speed's death.

* * *

John Hagen figured he was the luckiest man alive. Dressed in his nicest suit, and with a generous spraying of cheap cologne, he was ready to ooze charm all over his date. He eased his car through the massive iron gate, which closed behind him slowly, and down the drive of the house. Unlike the posh homes around it, it had a Gothic, creepy feel about it, as though it would be more at home in a stormy fog. Hagen smiled. It had to be custom-built.

What a way to rebound.

He adjusted his tie as he rang the doorbell, trying and, obliviously, failing to look seductive and suave. The woman who answered was in a black robe that could have been mistaken for a priest's alb, her waist accentuated by a silk tasseled cord. She smelled of floral and musk. "Come in," she said quietly.

She had soft features and pearly grey eyes that gave her an almost catlike appearance. Her hair reached to her shoulders and was wavy, black, and slightly damp.

"Sorry I'm not ready," she said. Her voice was low and rich for a woman.

"No problem," said Hagen, looking around at the interior of the foyer. It was ornate and Baroque-reminiscent, and it could have put the Paris Opera House to shame. A pair of fine black Pharaoh Hounds were lounging, somewhat out of place, on the lushly carpeted staircase.

"Isis, Osiris," she called to them, "Come and meet John!"

The gorgeous animals responded, rubbing lovingly against the both of them.

"Oh, they like you," she cooed happily, "Tea?"

"Sure," he said, rubbing Osiris behind his jackal ears.

She led him into a room that could have been mistaken for a forest at twilight; cool and dark and almost damp. She motioned him to sit down in a place where, if it had been a normal parlor, a chair would have stood. Instead it was an extra-plush spot of deep green, mosslike carpet. A spot of bare hardwood held an earthy teapot and cups.

"Go on and drink," she urged, "I'll be down in a minute."

He took a sip and screwed up his features. She chuckled. "It's pennyroyal," she chortled, "You'll get used to it."

The CSI unit of the Miami-Dade Police received the call early that morning about a seemingly mummified body, found in an alleyway behind a row of expensive and decadent manors. By 7:15, Erik Delko was snapping pictures diligently, and Alexx was prepping to get a first look at the corpse. Horatio Caine and Tim Speedle pulled up in a CSI Hummer just as the sun was glaring over the top of the home in front of them.

"What happened to you, huh?" Alexx was asking the body as she pulled away the muslin strips that wound his face. After squinting at the slightly shriveled countenance a moment, she gasped. "Horatio," she said, "Come look at this."

Horatio pulled off his sunglasses and craned his neck at the sight. "Hagen?" he asked, bewildered. Alexx nodded. "Well, well, well," he said, "One of our own. In a manner of speaking."

Speed looked down at the distorted, iridescent powder-coated face of the former Detective John Hagen. "Why would anyone in their right mind leave something like this out in the open?" he asked.

"Simple," said Horatio, putting his sunglasses back on, "Either they want to be found...or they're not in their right mind."

* * *

Cue theme song 


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: Sorry this look a while.Also sorry that it sucks, but I'm setting up for a confrontation, and I wanted to hurry it along so the real plot can start.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. tear

* * *

Alexx shook her head. The body that was Hagen was lying, cleaned, on her examination table, but it still had a sickly sweet odor to it, compliments of whatever it was he had been wrapped in. That wasn't her job.

"Stomach contents, Alexx?" Horatio asked from the perch that he most often assumed when watching post mortems.

"Just a minute," she said, opening the body. She expected to have to claw her way through organs, but the sight that met her eyes was beyond strange. "I hate to disappoint you, Horatio," she said, "But there's no stomach to get the contents out of."

"What?"

"Whoever did this was following a pattern to the letter," she continued, "No liver, stomach, intestines, heart, or lungs."

"Interesting. Is that all?"

"Not really," she poked around inside, "Inside of the body is filled with that same mixture he was packed in. My guess would be his head's the same."

"Any incisions?"

"Just a few. Smaller and harder to see than some of the cuts I make. Whoever did this had lots of practice."

"What to the Tox report say?"

"Aconitum uncinatumin the bloodstream."

"Aconite?"

"Poison," she explained, "Also used a drying agent on the exterior, that explains the shriveled look. But...I swabbed him twice, and the results are the same. The drying agent was applied, and the cuts were made, while blood was still circulating."

"Embalmed alive. Thanks Alexx."

"Anytime, Horatio," she said, beginning to examine the head.

"Horatio!" he heard her sweet voice call from somewhere off to the left. God, his knees felt week.

"Yeah, Calleigh?" he said, turning around and bracing himself.

Her face was serious. "Speed and I made out a list of everything we found in that mixture Hagen was packed in. Not your garden-variety herbs, either. He ran a check to see if they were connected."

"They are," came Speed's voice behind them, "Used traditionally in Druid funerals. Be right back!" Speed kept on walking, but there was something peculiar in his gait that made Calleigh think he was headed to the bathroom. She chuckled.

"Interesting," said Horatio, "Anything about a drying chemical?"

"Yeah, natron. Egyptians used it in the mummification process."

"That fits," he said softly.

"What?" she asked.

"Some of Hagen's organs were missing."

"Ugh." She looked away, her face concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, cocking her head, "Are you?"

"Yeah."

There was a quiet moment that passed between them. There eyes were locked in a gaze that radiated things neither of them were able to say or even admit to themselves at that point.

"Okay, well I should get back to the lab," she said, "Eric and I are going to check that muslin for prints. It's not much, but it's all we have to run on."

"Okay, Calleigh. Hey listen, if you get some time, have Speed see what Hagen was doing last night."

"Horatio Caine. Have you got another one of your hunches?"

"I wouldn't call it a hunch," he said, shrugging, "Think of it as a premonition."

She smirked. "Whatever works for you," she said as she walked off.

She was blushing. That sounded stupid, Calleigh, she told herself, This is the wrong time to be thinking about this.


End file.
